The Drabble File
by WildMeiLing
Summary: I've been in the mood to write, but my muse's attention span has been pretty short lately. So here is our compromise: a haphazard collection of teeny stories. Most are one-hundred words; most are Clarisse and Joseph. They're posted in the order I wrote them, with no respect to any kind of timeline. Includes Mia and Rupert. *CHAPTER 15 added.*
1. Chapter 1-Defining Togetherness

"Defining Togetherness"

 _(Clarisse and Joseph)_

* * *

They lie in semi-darkness, tangled up in soft cotton sheets and each other. He's the first to speak after their breathing returns to normal, pushing up on one elbow.

"I would ask you to marry me, but you would say no."

Her eyes fly open, but he's smiling down at her and her panic dissipates.

"So I was thinking, maybe we should move in together."

She laughs quietly. "Technically, we have been living together for the past twenty-five years."

"But 'in sin' for far too few of them," he adds ruefully.

Smiling wickedly, she pulls him back down to her.


	2. Chapter 2-What He Knows

"What He Knows"

 _(Clarisse and Joseph)_

* * *

"Look at them. How they adore their perfect queen. If only they knew." Joseph stood behind Clarisse, surveying the garden party with his usual stern detachment.

She gazed ahead, her serene expression unperturbed, her voice light. "Knew what?"

"What a minx you are."

"Shut _up_ ," she murmured, nodding and smiling at a passerby.

"Do you mean that the way Americans do when they –"

"I say it the way Americans do when they mean, 'Shut up.'"

His eyes twinkled, unrepentant. "It's enough that I know."

"You don't know anything...yet."

She walked off, leaving him stoically smothering a groan of anticipation.


	3. Chapter 3-Comfortable

"Comfortable"

 _(Clarisse and Joseph)_

* * *

The late afternoon sun poured itself into Clarisse's office, warming the comfortable silence resting between her and her bodyguard. Time passed amiably in rhythm to the ticking of an antique clock, the shuffle of state documents, the flipping of pages in a security manual.

The clock chimed delicately, reminding them that it had already been an hour since Charlotte had left them.

Clarisse paused to look at Joseph. He felt her eyes on him, and they looked at each other over the rims of their reading glasses. They smiled smiles no one else saw before returning to their tasks.


	4. Chapter 4-Escape Route

"Escape Route"

 _(Clarisse and Joseph)_

* * *

"Do you still have the map? To the little French village?"

Today had been especially rough on her. It had been ages since she'd asked about the map.

"I do. But we won't need it. I've memorized every route."

"If you leave it behind, they'll follow us."

"I'll burn it before we go."

She stared quietly out the window of the limousine. Then:

"I found a book on canning vegetables."

"Did you?"

"Years ago. Just in case."

"I'll grow them if you can them."

She rested her head on his shoulder. "It's good to know we still have a backup plan."


	5. Chapter 5-Bodyguard

"Bodyguard"

 _(Clarisse and Joseph)_

 _Double drabble!_ :)

* * *

He was livid. She'd known he had a temper, but had never been the recipient of it before.

"You will _never_ do that again! Am I clear on that?"

She straightened up, her even reply covering her genuine fear. "Last I checked, I am the one authorized to give orders around here."

"When it comes to the safety of the Crown, I outrank you!" He turned, rubbing his face as he breathed deeply. She waited quietly.

When he faced her again, she nearly gasped. His eyes were shining and he trembled. "Why…?" was all he could manage.

Stepping toward him, she raised her hand to his cheek, and with her thumb swept away a rogue tear. "I don't know. I saw someone running at you, and I reacted."

He clutched at her arms and pulled her to him roughly so her face was only inches from his. "He was a madman, and he was running at _you_. _I_ am supposed to jump in front of _you_ , not the other way around!"

"Maternal instinct?" she tried breathlessly.

"Unacceptable," he rasped.

For this one moment, gone were five years' worth of carefully maintained boundaries. They clung to each other for dear life.


	6. Chapter 6-Seeing Him

"Seeing Him"

 _(Clarisse and Mia)_

* * *

It had happened twice, and she was ashamed of it.

Once had been a moment of sheer joy – something had caused the girl to double over with beguiling laughter. For a split second, Clarisse had seen him in her place.

The other time, Mia had been asleep. After an exhausting day, she had nodded off in the back of the limousine. The shape of her chin, the color of her hair, even the curve of her ears...

Twice, Mia had innocently – utterly – been the incarnation of her father. Twice, Clarisse had had to turn away, unable to look at her.


	7. Chapter 7-Mistletoe

"Mistletoe"

 _(Clarisse, Joseph, Rupert)_

* * *

There is a commotion. Joseph can see a small knot of people forming by the door leading from the ballroom to the balcony, the royal couple at the center of it. He cannot hear them, but he sees fingers jabbing the air above them.

Mistletoe, hanging over the doorway.

Rupert leans down and kisses his queen. When he pulls back, she is smiling blandly amid the delighted onlookers and her proud husband. She looks over Rupert's shoulder and she freezes.

He turns because he is a coward and does not want to see his – their – sadness reflected in her eyes.


	8. Chapter 8-Warm

"Warm"

 _(Clarisse and Joseph)_

 _Triple drabble!_ :)

* * *

He leaned back against the wall, watching her. The evening breeze swept over the sand and across the balcony, ruffling the filmy material of her sundress. Apart from when she wore a bathing suit, he had never seen this much of her skin before, and it glowed in the light of the sun setting over the sea.

"What do you think of the view, Joseph?"

"Oh, God. Beautiful."

She turned, startled, but his eyes were trained on the sunset as he mentally kicked himself for his brutal honesty.

She studied him carefully. He waited for her to say something. Anything.

"Don't you get warm when we're out on the beach, and you're dressed all in black?"

"I do get warm, but I'm not sure it has to do with _my_ apparel." Damn! Why did he keep doing this?

Her eyes widened slightly, but the corners of her lips curved a little. "May I take that as a compliment?" she asked softly.

"I hope that's how you choose to take it." He looked at her fully. "I swear, I meant no disrespect."

She returned his look silently, then walked toward the French doors leading to her room. She paused when she was even with him.

"Thank heavens for sea breezes and sundresses." She let her eyes trail down his figure, then brought them back up to squarely meet his gaze. "I get rather warm myself," she said huskily before sweeping through the doorway.

He stood rooted to the spot. Then, clearing his throat, he called after her, "May I take that as a compliment?"

He was surprised when she poked her head back around, and he jumped slightly. "Oh, I do hope you will," she replied mischievously. Retreating inside once more, she missed the goofy smile spreading slowly across his face.


	9. Chapter 9-Noticed

"Noticed"

 _(Clarisse and Joseph)_

* * *

She stopped so abruptly, he almost walked into her. He backed up as she spun around.

"When did you start losing your hair?"

He didn't miss a beat. "After I started working for you, Your Majesty."

"Ha! I remember when you started working for me. The process was already well underway."

"Was it?"

"Yes."

"So, you noticed my hair?"

"I noticed your head."

"Ah, but you noticed me."

She feigned a mildly scandalized look. "Cheeky."

She whirled back around so they could resume their forward pace. They didn't need to see each other's faces to know they were both smiling.


	10. Chapter 10-Poolside, first version

"Poolside" - first version

 _(Clarisse, Pierre, and Philippe)_

* * *

"Come on, Mama."

"Yes, do it."

She stood at the edge of the pool, debating. She was in her swimsuit, but finally dry again, a sarong wrapped around her waist.

"I don't know…" She stared into the water as she deliberated.

"Please? Come on in, Mama?" her older son pleaded courteously.

"Do it. Do it!"

Her younger son's chant was becoming slightly annoying. She started to say something when she noticed he was looking over her shoulder.

He wasn't talking to her.

"Do. It."

She looked back, and was startled. "Rupert!" She gasped as comprehension dawned. "You wouldn't -!"

SPLASH!


	11. Chapter 11-Poolside, second version

"Poolside" - second version

 _(Clarisse, Pierre, and Philippe)_

 _ **Note:** In this one, only a single word is changed, but honestly, I didn't know how to choose between the two versions!_

* * *

"Come on, Mama."

"Yes, do it."

She stood at the edge of the pool, debating. She was in her swimsuit, but finally dry again, a sarong wrapped around her waist.

"I don't know…" She stared into the water as she deliberated.

"Please? Come on in, Mama?" her older son pleaded courteously.

"Do it. Do it!"

Her younger son's chant was becoming slightly annoying. She started to say something when she noticed he was looking over her shoulder.

He wasn't talking to her.

"Do. It."

She looked back, and was startled. "Joseph!" She gasped as comprehension dawned. "You wouldn't -!"

SPLASH!


	12. Chapter 12-Changed His Mind

"Changed His Mind"

 _(Rupert, Clarisse, Joseph)_

* * *

It had been his idea. Clarisse needed to brush up on a traditional Spanish dance.

"Joe's Spanish," he'd said, hardly glancing up from his work.

Now Rupert stood in the doorway, and they were oblivious as they spun around the empty ballroom. He knew the dance was a substitute for what they truly wanted. He saw it in their eyes, in the way they moved together.

He also trusted them beyond a shadow of a doubt.

He should let them have this dance.

They startled when he walked in, clapping, his smile not reaching his eyes.

"May I cut in?"


	13. Chapter 13-Ideology

"Ideology"

 _(Clarisse, Joseph)_

 _This one is an example of casually sharing an idea with someone who, in return, gave me the greatest suggestion of all time and transformed my corny idea into something infinitely better. Thank you, friend. :)_

* * *

It was a huge victory for the Crown, on behalf of the Genovian people, against a small but influential political faction.

They'd left Parliament in pandemonium. Outside, the crowd cheered while camera-wielding reporters pushed and shoved, hoping for a shot.

He waited until the office door was firmly shut. She sighed, releasing the adrenalin and relaxing her shoulders.

"Some time ago," he said, his voice hushed with awe and pride, "you accused me of being a republican."

"You denied it," she said with a skeptical smirk.

"You were right," he confessed. "I'm a republican." He bowed lowly. "Long live the Queen."


	14. Chapter 14-Unseen

"Unseen"

 _(Clarisse, Joseph)_

* * *

She leaned against the doorway to the balcony. The room behind her was dark. The full moon outlined her relaxed form in its shimmering light.

She knew he was there.

An outside camera captured the side of her he couldn't see.

It couldn't see him.

He could walk up silently behind her, staying in the shadows. Place his hand discreetly on her waist and kiss the nape of her neck. No one would see him.

Not even her. She could claim she thought he was her husband.

He thought about it. Then he cleared his throat and switched on a lamp.


	15. Chapter 15-Unseen: The What-If Scenarios

"Unseen: The What-If Scenarios"

 _Chapter 14 ("Unseen") from this random little collection of drabbles elicited several requests for more details or even a different outcome altogether. So I thought,_ What the heck? Let's do both, and we'll hopefully have something for everyone.

 _The first three start with the original drabble. The fourth starts at the same place in time, but is from Clarisse's perspective._

 _Warning: strong T rating ahead._

* * *

 **Drabble Alternative #1** (What if they had been nice and sensible…and boring?)

She leaned against the doorway to the balcony. The room behind her was dark. The full moon outlined her relaxed form in its shimmering light.

She knew he was there.

An outside camera captured the side of her he couldn't see.

It couldn't see him.

He could walk up silently behind her, staying in the shadows. Place his hand discreetly on her waist and kiss the nape of her neck. No one would see him.

Not even her. She could claim she thought he was her husband.

He thought about it. Then he cleared his throat and switched on a lamp.

Without changing her stance, she turned her head slightly to speak over her shoulder at him.

"Aren't you exhausted, Joseph?"

"How did you know it was me?"

A strange smile lit her profile. "Who else would it be? Not my husband, surely."

It happened every so often that their feelings slipped out beyond their careful borders, and they had been flirting for days. He had done the right thing, making his presence known. God, how he sometimes hated himself for always doing the right thing. But keeping distance between them was the only way.

She knew it, too. This most recent bout of flirtation had been going on too long, and it was time. She spun to face him, but didn't come any closer.

"I just wanted to check on you. To make sure you were safely in for the night."

She leaned back against the doorframe and, hunching her shoulders slightly, crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "Well, here I am. Safe and sound."

He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at her. "Yes, you are," he agreed. Safe enough with half a room in between them. "So…good night."

"Good night, Joseph," she replied softly. "And thank you. For checking on me."

He nodded once. "You're welcome."

Their gazes lingered a moment longer. Then she managed a tiny smile. He responded in kind before his shuffling feet found their usual, steady rhythm and carried him out of her suite with a strength he did not know he possessed.

* * *

 **Drabble Alternative #2** (What if they had been _mostly_ sensible?)

She leaned against the doorway to the balcony. The room behind her was dark. The full moon outlined her relaxed form in its shimmering light.

She knew he was there.

An outside camera captured the side of her he couldn't see.

It couldn't see him.

He could walk up silently behind her, staying in the shadows. Place his hand discreetly on her waist and kiss the nape of her neck. No one would see him.

Not even her. She could claim she thought he was her husband.

He thought about it. Then he cleared his throat and switched on a lamp.

Without changing her stance, she turned her head slightly to speak over her shoulder at him.

"Aren't you exhausted, Joseph?"

It was hard enough to resist going to her before, but her voice and the way she said his name…

"How did you know it was me?"

Now she gave herself a languid little push off the doorframe and came back into the room.

"How do I ever know it's you?" she replied, coming to stand next to him. She looked at him closely before reaching for the lamp.

She switched it off, and they were back in the dark.

"Clarisse," he cautioned as her lips hovered near his.

"Hmm?" She slid her hands up his arms and around the back of his head.

"We can't keep doing this."

"Doing what?" She kissed him – a hint of a kiss that he barely felt, but that somehow reverberated through him to his very soul.

"This. Whatever this is. These casual make-out sessions that we know aren't so casual."

"You're stealing all my lines," she murmured against his jaw.

"Well, one of us has to remain sensible, especially since the other one of us has had too much champagne."

"Too much – or just enough?" He could feel her mouth smiling against his skin. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.

She drew back slightly, and even in the dark, her eyes, wide and innocent, glimmered. "Would you like me to stop?"

"No."

She laughed quietly and leaned into him again.

* * *

 **Drabble Alternative #3** (What if he had?)

She leaned against the doorway to the balcony. The room behind her was dark. The full moon outlined her relaxed form in its shimmering light.

She knew he was there.

An outside camera captured the side of her he couldn't see.

It couldn't see him.

He could walk up silently behind her, staying in the shadows. Place his hand discreetly on her waist and kiss the nape of her neck. No one would see him.

Not even her. She could claim she thought he was her husband.

He thought about it. Then he did it.

It wasn't a conscious decision. More that he felt everything happening just as he'd imagined. As if all he'd ever needed to do was picture it, and it would be.

And just like that, without quite knowing how he got there, he was standing close behind her. She didn't move, but her breathing was faster, shallower than it should be for someone so tranquil.

He reached his hand out and placed it on her side. He leaned forward and kissed the nape of her neck. Once. Twice. Then he let his lips linger. He felt her shiver.

"You should come in out of the night air before you catch a chill."

She was mindful of the camera, and her response was a low murmur. "I'm quite warm, actually."

He let his nose graze against the soft skin between her shoulder blades. "Yes, you are," he whispered.

"You have to stop."

Of course. He straightened up and moved back. "I am sorry."

She turned all the way around and looked at him carefully. "I meant, your whiskers were tickling me." She smiled reassuringly.

He gave her a crooked grin in return. "Ah, I see."

She walked past him to the nearest lamp. Switching it on, she asked, "Do you think you might have a drink with me?"

He had pushed too far. He had to leave before he did something they would both regret. Although, he had the feeling neither of them would regret it right away.

"I'd better not. But thank you."

She nodded. "I understand."

"I just wanted to make sure you were in your suite safe and sound. And you are, so…good night."

"Good night."

He was pulling on the door when she stopped him. "Joseph?"

He paused and waited for her to continue.

"Are you sorry?"

He opened the door and walked through before turning back. He took a deep breath and met her eyes. "No."

"Good."

They smiled.

And he left.

* * *

 **Drabble Alternative #4** (What if he _really_ had?)

She knew he was there.

It happened every so often that their feelings slipped out beyond their careful borders, and now they had been flirting for days.

She fully expected him to do the right thing, to make his presence known. God, how she sometimes hated them both for always doing the right thing.

Only she sensed this time was different. He was closer now, and his hand slid around her waist. His lips were at the back of her neck. She'd never felt him before, not like this; but she would know him anywhere.

She struggled to maintain her composure. There was a camera out here, after all. But her knees were weakening as quickly as her resolve.

Trying to appear nonchalant for the sake of whoever was watching in the security hub, she eased herself from the doorframe and back into the shadows of her suite.

Immediately she turned, and he caught her up in his arms. His lips returned to her neck.

"Joseph," she whispered, his name full of too many years' worth of suppressed emotions and longings.

He moaned in response – a lusty, exquisite sound that had her gripping his shoulders for support.

"We can't," she told him, even as she moved her hands to his face to bring his lips even with hers.

Along the entire length of their bodies, there wasn't an inch between them, yet they weren't close enough.

"Why not?" he whispered against her mouth.

"I don't know," she replied, pressing her hips against his.

"Tell me you want this to happen," he pleaded, his hands running up and down her back.

"I want this. I want you."

He was kissing her again, and she slid her hands up his arms.

Nothing between them but a few layers of clothing. A thin evening gown. A jacket and shirt. A tie she held in her hands, her fingers pulling at the knot.

Nothing between them but duty. Marriage.

Oh, but the taste of him. So much like she'd always imagined, and so much more.

Duty. Her fingers finally undid the knot.

Marriage. His hands were traveling up her sides, searching for the zipper.

Country. She was up against the wall.

Surrender. He found the zipper as she pulled his shirt from his waistband.

Amnesia. She felt, for the first time, the skin of his stomach under her fingers and the way he trembled at her touch.

Freedom. She released all thoughts of anything but him and they tumbled together into the darkness.

 **The End**


End file.
